Hey Cult Baddie,

A few days ago, a friend gave me a Christmas card with a single word describing what it felt like to work with me this year. I was sure the word would be something like reliable or funny, something softer, more incidental.

Instead, the word driven was inked onto the card with such certainty that I found myself Googling it.

I know what driven means, mind. I just never thought it described me. My self-perception has always felt slightly off-beat, tangential, so I had to search through the back of my mind, fishing for moments where my actions might have projected something I wasn’t consciously inhabiting.

Funny thing, isn’t it? I’m sure all of you have had moments like this too. Those small dissonances between who we feel we are and who others see in us.

It made me reflect on 2025: the recurring themes, the unblinking eye staring jet-black straight back, the liminal space I keep returning to between being and becoming.

With that in mind, I hope to offer a slightly rebellious perspective on New Year’s resolutions for 2026.

Welcome to ON MUSINGS: a quarterly space where I share reflections, updates from my music journey, and whatever else is stirring in the season. Think of it as a letter from me to you: an intimate, unholy communion between the artist and the witness.

In this issue:

• Taking a rare pause

• The Secret History and me: how Donna Tartt rewired my brain and inspired my own worldbuilding

• Tragedian goes micro-viral

• First show in 2026

• Cannibalism in literature & Nusantara fairy tales

• Brewing a new EP: finally finishing a messy, personal project

• How to Be when you're Becoming

The slowness of this quarter gave me room to sit with my thoughts. I’ve taken a break from performing since the AXEAN Festival in Bali, mostly to recalibrate and make space for rest. Rare, but necessary. For the first time in a while, I had time to read and write more than in any other quarter this year. And read and write I did.

The Secret History by Donna Tartt rewired my brain in ways I didn’t anticipate. I was nervous going in, afraid it might be the “best book of my life” and I’d never see the world the same way again. I finished it in one big gulp. And now I’m still floating in a kind of trance, stunned by the sheer craft it took to birth something so beautiful yet merciless.

“Beauty is terror. Whatever we call beautiful, we quiver before it. And what could be more terrifying and beautiful, to souls like the Greeks or our own, than to lose control completely? To throw off the chains of being for an instant, to shatter the accident of our mortal selves? […] let God consume us, devour us, unstring our bones. Then spit us out reborn.”

How could one read this and not be affected? It’s terrifying, intoxicating, and profoundly Greek in its logic. It felt like a mirror held up to my own music worldbuilding. The lexicon, the way I romanticise violence, dwell in tragedy, and chase that fleeting, epic beauty that shakes the soul. Truly indelible.

Much the same as my recently released song, Tragedian. A song I co-wrote with keram, a Welsh songwriter. It’s a modern ode to Greek tragedy that dives into the exquisite ache of melancholy.

When I wrote this song, I was remembering a time when I sought meaning and comfort in my own sorrow. I gravitated toward stories that made me ache, and in that ache, there was a strange catharsis; a purge. I wanted to romanticise Greek tragedies, to believe in χαλεπά τὰ καλά, that nothing is beautiful without struggle. I became the protagonist of my own downfall, undone by my melancholic nature yet oddly devoted to it. This song is about that sacred ritual of indulging in sadness, and being in love with the feeling.

What surprised me most during this release cycle was a clip of me singing the song going micro-viral on TikTok. It was oddly reassuring to know there are people out there who actually love my song. It’s made me even more excited to play my next show on January 10th at Live Fact with Women & Children.

You can get your ticket(s) here.

I also spent a lot of time deliberately diving into whatever caught my curiousity. Sometimes dark, sometimes deliciously weird. Cannibalism in literature, Nusantara fairy tales… you know, the usual Friday night rabbit holes.

As a true believer in “you are what you consume,” you can be sure all of this is seeping into my songwriting, simmering into melodies, lyrics, and worlds I’m quietly cooking up. 

On that note… 

I’ve been brewing a new EP for a while now, and I can safely say it’s finished and sent off for mixing and mastering. Eep!

Spoiler: it’s a small, messy project about a narcissist I used to know. These are songs I had to write to get out of my system to move on. I’m genuinely nervous to share this corner of my brain with you next year. It feels like revealing parts of myself I usually keep tucked away. But one must do what one must in the name of art. And this is the price of honesty, I suppose.

As we are nearing the end of 2025, I just want to take a moment to say thank you for your support this year. When the year began, there were many goals that I set out to achieve. I am proud to say that I did achieve them and more. Those milestones were important to me. They’re evidence that I can make good work, write good songs, and follow through on intentions. 

Truth be told, I’ve been navigating the tension between being and becoming all year. There’s the part of me that wants to optimise, achieve, tick boxes. And then there’s the part that wants to linger, to dwell, to savour the being I already am. I have worked hard to be here and I should be allowed to enjoy the fruits of my labour. Still, the neo-capitalist side of me inevitably kicks in like a soldier, demanding that I treat life like a productivity dashboard.

So I keep circling the same question: how do we honour the work we’ve already done without letting the urge to “do more” erase the joy of simply being? How do we linger in our achievements, savour the present, and still allow ourselves to grow without turning every moment into a task to tick off?

I don’t have the perfect answer.

But here’s my rebellious take on resolutions: create rituals, not checklists.

Create rituals that ask, how am I inhabiting my life right now? rather than what’s next on the list? This could look like a weekly check-in with no goal attached, letting a moment pass undocumented, or sitting with something you’ve already made just to acknowledge it. Take small, intentional pauses to notice what’s already here, to savour the experience, and let it shape what you bring into the world.

Because I believe Becoming doesn’t always come from pushing harder. Sometimes it emerges when we let Being take up space.

Perhaps, somewhere along the way, you’ll notice it too: the self you thought was wandering, hesitant, or off-beat might just be driven after all, in ways only others can sometimes see.

Before we part ways, a little offering to you for making it to the end:

1. Tragedian, my latest original release, is out now on all streaming platforms. Give it a spin if you haven’t already!

2. First show of 2026 is on Jan 10 at LiveFact, alongside Women & Children, AVA, and Elecat. Come say hi if you’re around.

3. Also, I’m thinking of doing a small and intimate exclusive listening party for my new EP probably next year before I release everything to the world. If you’re interested, please join my IG channel! I will be doing some polls once we get the ball rollin’.

As we step into the first days of 2026, I hope you inhabit your being, trust your becoming, and watch the self reveal itself in small, delightful ways.

May it be filled with softness, wicked mischief, and divine intervention 🖤

Till the next quarter! xx

Your cult leader from the wickedland,

S.